Bertie and the Sad Occurrence
by Bena Glinney
Summary: A series of drabbles from Bertie's birth through about a year after his parents' death.
1. Wilberforce

This is a series of drabbles I wrote about a year ago. They cover from Bertie's birth up to about a year after his parents died.

Warning: beastly aunts, soppy females and a newt fancier  
Disclaimer: Plum may have actually liked these, but as he did not write them, I am stating I did, but am making no money off of them.

"You can't really want to give him that name."

"I do, Daisy. Wilberforce has made me a rich man this afternoon."

"I will not name our son Wilberforce. What would we call him?"

"Wilber."

"That isn't amusing."

"It isn't supposed to be amusing. I mean it, Daisy. He was a long shot to win. But I had a feeling. You remember Edwin Wilberforce that I rowed with at Oxford? I was thinking of him this morning and then, by some stroke of providence there was a horse with the same name."

"It was a silly coincidence."

"Coincidence or not, it has made me a rich man. And when this son of ours arrives he will proudly carry the name Wilberforce."

"Suppose it's another girl."

"Nonsense. A healthy, strapping boy. With a strong name."

"I'm naming him Bertram, as we had already decided."

"Daisy-"

"Don't you 'Daisy' me. His name will be Bertram. If you absolutely insist upon it his second name can be Wilberforce. Though naming him after a horse is simply ridiculous."

"Bertram Wilberforce Wooster it is, then."


	2. Quiet

"Is he always going to cry this much?" asked Samantha of her mother.

"Oh no. Eventually he'll become a little boy. But right now he's just a baby. And babies cry a lot. You did." She said, drawing her daughter closer.

Samantha wrinkled her nose. "He's ugly. And he smells."

Daisy smiled. "He's beautiful. Though he does need his nappy changed, I will agree with that. Here, take him to nanny. I need to rest."

She gently handed over her tiny son, instructing Samantha how to properly support his head. Samantha gingerly held him as close to her chest as she could, feeling his heartbeat. His eyes had been closed but as Samantha walked down the corridor to the nursery they flashed open. They were bright blue.

"Bertie." Samantha whispered. "You have to be a good baby now and not cry because Mother is tired and you need to be quiet. Nanny is going to change your stinky nappy and then I'll hold you until you fall asleep."

Bertie blinked twice and did not make a sound.


	3. Daisy, Daisy

"Bertie?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Come over here with me." Father was sitting at the piano, peering at a new piece of sheet music he had picked up in London the week before. He moved over and helped me up on the bench.

I looked at the music, too, but couldn't make sense of the lines and dots on it.

"I sang this for your mother when we first met, but I never learned how to play it. What do you think?" He played a few bars and started singing, "There is a flower within my heart, Daisy, Daisy! Planted one day by a glancing dart, planted by Daisy Bell!" he kept singing a bit more.

"Now, Bertie, help me with the chorus. "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do."

"That's Mother's name!" I said, laughing.

"Of course. It was the perfect song, young Bertram. Never forget, music is the way to a woman's heart.


	4. Scripture Knowledge

"Bertie, come here a moment." Came Father's voice from the dining room. I drug my toes with every step as I had already been dismissed from dinner. Being called back could not be a good thing.

I entered the room and saw all the guests seated in their chairs, looking expectantly at me and Father. Father came to stand behind me and placed one hand on either shoulder.

"Young Bertie here has quite a talent for quoting Scripture, don't you Bertie?"

"Yes, sir."

"In fact, last week after Sunday service, he told me how the vicar got a passage wrong. Didn't you, Bertie?"

"Yes, sir."

I didn't like where this was headed, but assumed agreeing with Father was most likely the best route.

"Bertie, what I'd like you to do is-"

"Bertram Wilberforce Wooster you get up here right this instant and get that disgusting creature out of my room!" screamed my sister from the top of the stairs.

Father stood stock still for a moment before releasing me. "Perhaps some other time, then, Bertie."


	5. Captain Wooster

"Father, do you have to go to Town?"

"Indeed I do, Bertie. Important things are happening in London today." said my father, taking his hat from my hands. Milton straightened his tie and nodded his approval.

"I shan't be gone long. I'll be home to kiss you and your sister goodnight. Come, come. Is that any way for a Wooster to behave? Straight back, tall shoulders. That's better."

So saying Father poked his finger into my stomach causing me to giggle and break form. He looked at me falsely stern.

"Take care of the homestead while I'm away Captain Wooster." I gave him a salute.

"Yes, sir."


	6. A solemn cove

Father was two days late, I noted. He'd left for business in London on Monday, saying he would be back that evening. It was now Wednesday afternoon. He was never late.

Mother wasn't at dinner that evening. Instead, just Samantha and me sat at table. Samantha had started lessons on how to be a lady, but I was still determined to slurp my soup as loud as I could.

I saw Milton curl the side of his mouth a bit as I increased the volume. Milton, our butler, was generally a solemn cove, but he did have a good sense of humor.


	7. Sounds like Music

"Mother, look. Mother, look!" I said, bounding into her parlor, the frog I had just caught trying like mad to escape my grasp.

I stopped short. She was sitting, looking out the window. She had one of father's handkerchiefs in her hand.

"Mother?" I put the frog into a pocket and walked closer.

"Hmm? Oh, Bertie. What is it, darling?" she said, holding her arms out to me.

"Nothing, Mother." I said meekly. Just then the frog spoke up. Mother looked astonished for a few moments before bursting into laughter. It sounded like music.


	8. Summoned

"We've been summoned." said Samantha, tugging on the sleeves of my sailor suit.

"Why?" I replied petulantly.

"Bertie, please do try to act a grown-up. It must have something to do with Father."

At that, I straightened my back, remembering Father's instructions on how Woosters faced bad news and danger. Bertram would not disappoint. Unfortunately, my lip seemed not to have received it's marching order, for it was wobbling with full force as we entered Mother's parlor.


	9. Almost as bad

"Your Aunts and Uncles will be arriving in two days for the funeral." said Milton quietly, from a position behind Mother. Mother was crying too hard to talk much.

"I'm sorry, Mama." said Samantha, going to her and giving her a hug.

I screwed up my eyes and looked quizzically at the scene playing out before me. "I don't understand. You said Father was hit by a tram. Why would a tram do that to him?"

"Oh, Bertie." said Mother. Samantha just glared at me and tapped her foot to show her annoyance. Sisters are almost as bad as aunts sometimes.


	10. Carrying a Harp

"Nanny?"

"Yes, Bertie."

"What happens to us when we die?" Nanny choked on her biscuit. I offered her some tea to help wash it down but she declined.

"I mean, with Father being dead now, where is he?" I continued.

"He's in heaven."

"What's heaven?"

Nanny looked scandalized. "Surely you pay attention to the reverend's sermon every Sunday."

"Most of the time." I answered honestly. "But mostly he talked about hell and I can't see Father going there. He smiled too much."

"Well, heaven is where people go when they've good lives, like your Father." Nanny replied.

"Do you think he's wearing a diaper and carrying a harp?" I asked. This time, Nanny choked on her tea so I was at a loss to help her.


	11. An Aspidistra

The aspidistra looked as good a place as any to conceal myself behind. The aunts and uncles had started arriving about an hour ago and Reverend Belchett was due to arrive any moment.

I remember one wet afternoon when I hid myself here while playing hide-and-seek with Mother, Father and Samantha. Nanny had been away on holiday. Those were always my favorite two weeks on the year.

I heard a low growl and knew that Father had entered the hallway. I steeled myself and tried to stop shivering. He growled again. I heard him creep closer until I couldn't stand it any longer.

"Ahh!"

"Aha!" cried Father. "Mother! Samantha! Bertie's turn to be the seeker!" he said, picking me up and swinging me round.


	12. Little Lord Fauntelroy

"There you are, young Bertie." came the booming voice of my Aunt Dahlia. There seemed to be an enormous amount of aunts wandering the corridors and appearing out of the woodwork since Father passed on.

Passed on. What a silly phrase. I was sick of being treated like a baby. I was sick of being ordered around. I was tired of everything.

When my nanny came to dress me in dark Lord Fauntelroy suit Aunt Agatha had gifted me for my birthday a few months earlier, I stuck my chin up and declared in no uncertain terms I refused to don such ridiculous pieces of fabric.


	13. A lot of rot

Aunt Charlotte and Aunt Emily were seated at the small table just to side of where Father's body was. I'd already taken a look at him. I'd even managed a small poke, just to make sure the doctors and undertakers weren't mistaken; he hadn't moved.

All throughout the house were small clumps of relatives and friends. Normally, such an occasion would have had Bertram running through the halls, but Mother had explained that it just wasn't done during funerals.

Seemed like a lot of rot to me. Father always loved to chase Samantha and me up and down the halls and stairways. He always found the best hiding spots to jump out and scare us, too, as we ran through the house.

He wouldn't have liked all this somberness.


	14. Nighthawk

"Bertie, come here at once!" came the screeching cry of the nighthawk otherwise known as my Aunt Agatha. I reluctantly crawled out from behind the aspidistra.

"Have you been crying?" she asked incredulously. I wiped the back of my hand against my cheeks and looked up defiantly at her.

"No."

"What nonsense. What would your father say if he saw you crying?" she scolded.

"Well, he can't now, can he? He's dead." I said with much more vehemence than I was accustomed to. I stormed out of the main hall and up the stairs to escape her.


	15. Sacrifices of Small Children

"Are you here, poppet?" came my mother's voice from the doorway. I pulled my face up from the pillow where I'd squashed it after flinging myself on the bed.

She came over to the bed and began rubbing my back. It would have taken a stronger boy than Bertram not to start anew with the water works. I took a deep breath and shuddered.

"It's all right, Bertie." she continued in a calming voice. "You have to forgive Aunt Agatha."

I gave an unintelligible response. She let a soft smile play on her lips. "You know she sacrifices small children in the afternoons. You'd best make sure you're out of her way today."


	16. A New Bouquet

"Thank you both." said my mother, holding my sister and me close. Her cheeks were stained with tears. I kept looking off to the side, embarrassed at being pulled into a hug in front of everyone.

My cousin Angela was standing ten feet away, peering out from her mother's skirt. My mother squeezed us tighter for a moment and then released us.

"Bertie." she whispered to me, "Why don't you take Angela out to the pond and pick me a new bouquet. Mine has become ruined." I pulled back and saw that I had crushed hers.

I gave her a small smile and grabbed Angela's hand, escaping out the door before any aunts could stop us.


	17. Stiffy Byng

"That is not what happens when you die, Stiffy Byng and you know it!" I yelled at her. Angela and I had been out collecting more flowers for Mother when that insufferable blot had accosted me and began spouting the most unreliable twat I'd ever heard. Girls!

"Well, that's why Uncle Watkyn told me when my parents died. Anyway, Bertie, I don't see why you're so upset. It isn't like it's anything horrible." she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"They do not come and whisper stories in one's ear at night. That's just not on." I reiterated. Stiffy rolled her eyes.

"Very well, Bertie. Come on, Madeline." I glowered at the both of them, Stiffy and Madeline, as they walked back to the house.

In retaliation for the anger I felt I pulled the stems of two daises with rather more force than was called for.


	18. Raindrops for Aunt Agatha

"Bertie!"

"Yes, Aunt Agatha?" I said, coming around the corner, with Mother's new bouquet in one hand and Angela's tiny hand in the other.

Aunt Agatha stopped for a moment, looking at me carefully. I steeled myself against the oncoming onslaught.

"Yes, well. Your mother is looking for you. You certainly took your time in picking those flowers."

"Yes, Aunt Agatha, but I wanted to make sure it was the most beautiful bouquet she's ever had."

I walked off down the hall with Angela in tow, not looking back. If I had I would have had the most bizarre impression of a few raindrops having fallen on Aunt Agatha's cheek.


	19. Under the Piano

"Master Bertram?" came a voice from beside me.

I sat up blearily and blinked twice. "Milton?"

"Yes. May I what you are doing?" I blinked again. It seemed very odd for Milton to be kneeling with a candle in hand.

"I was sleeping." I said.

"I can see that, young sir. But why underneath the piano?"

The Code of the Woosters maintained that I keep a stiff upper lip, but I'm afraid in the moment my strength failed me.

"I miss Father."

"Very good, sir. Why don't I carry you up to your bedroom?"


	20. Not the Same

"What's that?" I asked my sister. She was sitting at Father's piano, her fingers lighting dusting over the keys. Neither of us knew how to play, though Father had promised to start teaching me soon.

That was before he had died last week. Now there was no one to teach me. I crawled up on the bench beside my sister. She reluctantly moved over to make room for me.

She at least knew how to read music; she'd begun taking violin lessons last year. More often than not she only produced screeches and squawks. I'd been ordered out of the music room on more than one occasion by my father for laughing during her recitals.


	21. Wrong with Mother

"What's wrong with Mama?" I asked my sister. I had been shooed from her room the night before and ordered to bed without with any warm milk. And this morning Mama hadn't been at the breakfast table.

Instead we'd had to suffer through a silent meal with Nanny Newton. Normally, young Bertram found breakfast a rather jolly event, with eggs and rashers and fruit arranged on the plate to present a pleasing visage staring back at me.

This morning, however, the entire house seemed silent. The black crape from father's funeral still adorned several furnishings in the house. And now Mama wasn't up and about.

"I don't know." came my sister's hushed reply. "Doctor Anderson came about an hour ago and Milton has been in their with him the entire time."


	22. Time with Mother

"Oh, my darling Bertram." came Mama's voice from the bed. The space from the door to her bed seemed insurmountable. I hadn't seen her in two days, since the doctor deemed it acceptable for us to visit her.

I slowly approached and crawled up next to her on the bed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes stood out far too brightly. Her beautiful chestnut hair has fanned out on the pillow around her head like a halo.

Our butler, Milton, was standing invisible in the corner. He hadn't left her side since the doctor came.

"Milton, there are surely aspects of the house that require your attention. Bertie can stay with me until you return." she dismissed him.

I gave her a tentative kiss on the cheek and laid down next to her, my head pushed tightly into her chest.


	23. Don't Leave

"Mother?" I asked nervously. I'd fallen asleep with my face pressed against her chest.

"Yes, Bertie." she answered quietly. Milton must have found several things to do about the house, since he hadn't yet returned.

"Are you going to leave me like Father did?" I asked, ending in a sob.

Mother hugged me as tight as she could, but I could tell it wasn't as tight as before she fell ill. Samantha said that Mother had the 'flu', but I didn't see how laying in bed all day was anything like making sure the smoke went up the chimney. When I had told Samantha that she again stomped her foot at me. Sisters are not always the best at being sympathetic.


	24. Once Again Gathered

It was the same setting as three weeks before. All the Aunts and Uncles were gathered again and the black crape hadn't even had time to be pulled down.

My sister's bags were already backed and downstairs by the back door for Milton to load into Aunt Agatha's car when the service was done with. My bags had been dutifully packed by Nanny as her last duty before she left for France for a new position.

I felt terribly sorry for my sister, as I was to be going to Aunt Dahlia's first. I didn't like the thought of being without her, but at least I had Angela to play with. Aunt Agatha didn't have any children of her own yet, but she did have a good riding stable and there was a violin tutor in town.

Suddenly I was very angry at my mother.


	25. Not Elizabeth

"And so it is with great sorrow that we lay Elizabeth Wooster to rest. Ashes to ashes. Dust to-"

"Mother's name wasn't Elizabeth." I whispered fiercely to Samantha. She poked me in the ribs.

"Yes, it was, Bertie. Now be quiet."

"Her name was Daisy." I whispered to no one in particular.

Samantha let go a slight hiss of air, like a leaky bicycle tire. "Elizabeth was her proper name. Now do be quiet, Bertie."

"But he's got it all wrong. Elizabeth sounds like some stiff old ancient aunt."

"Bertie," whispered Samantha, "can you ever stop thinking of aunts?"


	26. Uncle Tom

It had been three weeks since I'd last seen my sister. And while a break of that length from Aunt Agatha was appreciated, I missed my sibling more than I'd expected. Angela was three years younger than I and as such was unable to climb trees and skip stones in the pond with the same dexterity.

I'd also had bad dreams the past three nights. When I woke up the fourth night in a row I saw a candle in the doorway.

"Bertie?"

"Uncle Tom?" I heard his feet approach my bed.

"My mother and father died when I was a young boy, too." he said simply. I looked at him with my mouth hanging open for a few more seconds before hurling myself at the foot of the bed into his open arms.


	27. Poor Milton

"What happened to Milton?" I asked Aunt Dahlia.

"What?" she boomed back.

"Milton, our butler. I know Nanny Newton went to France. Is that where all servants go to get new positions?"

Aunt Dahlia gave her barking laugh. "You silly blighter. No, Milton got scooped up right away by some lord or other in the north country."

"What about the others?" I persisted.

"Why do you care, young Bertie?"

"They lost their home, too." I said simply. Aunt Dahlia patted my head and told me I ought not worry about such adult things.


	28. Doing Laundry

"What are you doing, Bertie?" asked Angela.

"Playing the piano, young Angela." I replied.

"It doesn't sound very good." she said struggling to get her chubby legs up on the bench.

"Yes, well, I don't actually know how to play." I admitted.

"Then I can join you!" Angela said brightly. Angela was a pal of the first water, make no mistake. We began to bung out jolly noises on the ivories together.

"Angela! Bertie! What do you think you're doing?"

"Playing piano, Nanny." answered Angela dutifully. Honestly, what Nanny thought we were doing was beyond me. I mean, it's not as if one sits at a piano and does the laundry.


	29. Refusal

"Bertie, I've decided you're going to start piano lessons." said Aunt Dahlia entering the room with Angela at her heels.

"Your father was an excellent pianist. I think it's time you followed in his shoes." I had been in the middle of a particularly juicy chase between Sherlock Holmes and the bad guy, but it would have to wait.

"I have no desire to learn the music of dead men, Aunt Dahlia."

"You will learn, young Bertie. When we have company over I need to have something to entertain them with. You will be that something." Said Aunt Dahlia.

"No. No, no, no, no, no. I shall not." I said, crossing my arms and sitting firm.


	30. Acceptance

"And one and two and three and no, no, no, Master Wooster. You must keep a steady beat." Miss Violet started counting again. This piano playing business was rotten stuff. There were all sorts of rules and regulations to follow.

I don't know how Father enjoyed himself doing it. She wanted me to repeat the most bizarre phrases, too, saying they'd help me learn piano. I cannot see how knowing every good boy deserves favour would help me.

I had been playing scales for twenty minutes now. Same as yesterday, and the day before, and most likely tomorrow. I will say this for Miss Violet: She was certainly dependable.


	31. Funky Butt

"What is that racket?" boomed Aunt Dahlia coming in from a brisk morning on the grounds.

"It is not racket, dear Aunt, but the musical workings of one Buddy Bolden." I said, lifting my hands off the keys.

"Well, it's horrid. Why can't you play something nice?" she asked.

"It is nice, Aunt Dahlia. Listen." I began to once again tickle the ivories. There were lyrics that went along with it, but I knew I wouldn't be able to get away with them.

Just the thought of singing the term 'funky butt' to Aunt Dahlia turned my ears red.


	32. Two Left Feet

It was raining again. "Come along, Bertie." said Samantha who was up visiting for a long weekend with Aunt Agatha and Uncle Spenser.

"I don't want to dance." I sulked.

"I don't care."

Angela was twirling in a circle off to one side while Samantha pulled me to the center of the room and made me put my hand at her side.

"Bertie, come on. I know Father taught you to dance. Hold my hand and we can dance like Mother and Father." she ordered.

"Mother and Father never danced like this." I protested. "Father had two left feet; I heard Mama say so several times."


	33. What rot!

"Samantha, what do you think heaven is like?" My sister and I were sitting on the bench beside the pond where Father often sat with us before he died.

Samantha didn't answer at first, instead hugging me close. As much as I liked the embraces, I was getting rather tired of all the weepy females. It certainly made it very difficult to keep a stiff upper lip, as always instructed by Father.

I looked longingly up to the house thinking perhaps I could sneak away from the bench and into the kitchen for a biscuit before tea.

"Oh, Bertie. I think heaven is a wonderful place with angels, and women in white dresses and baskets overflowing with the most beautiful flowers and all sorts of beautiful things." she cooed.

"What rot!" I said, squirming out of her grasp and making for the front door.


	34. A Giant Hound

"AH!" I yelled and ran down the hallway.

"Aunt Dahlia! Aunt Dahlia!" I took the corner on one leg, almost crashing into table that had been thoughtlessly placed there and opened the door to Aunt Dahlia's bedroom.

She was seated at her dressing table, combing out her hair. She stopped what she was doing when I entered the room.

"Bertie? What is the matter? You look as though you've seen a ghost." She said, true auntly concern audible.

I mutely shook my head and climbed up into her lap, knowing full well I was too old to go climbing into people's laps.

She looked at me a bit odd then started rubbing my back in smoothing circles.

"You've been reading Hound of the Baskervilles, haven't you?"


	35. Reginald

"Bertie, come in for tea!" came Nanny's voice.

"Oh bother. Come along, Reginald. We'd best go inside." I said. The Reginald I was addressing was a small frog I'd found while fishing around the edges of the pond. He was dark green with lighter green legs.

I had in the past caught other creatures of amphibious origin but had never taken a liking to them as I had Reginald. There was something about his eyes and the way his head stuck out at the back that was very pleasing.

Now it was only the matter of sneaking him past Nanny.


	36. For ever and always?

I had taken Reginald out into the grounds with me, intent upon discovering and capturing another pal for him. He had seemed fairly happy with the change in scenery, but I felt in order for him to truly feel comfortable he would need a friend with which to share the cage I had set up for him in my room.

We'd been outside for more than an hour when he slipped out of my grasp and plunked into the stream.

"Reginald!" I yelled and tried to grab at him. He made three quick gestures with his strong frog legs and was out of site.

When Angela found me a little while later she asked me what was wrong.

"I was going to take care of him, Angela. For ever and always."


	37. Scripture Knowledge II

All the aunts were there. Charlotte, Emily, Dahlia, Julia and Agatha, all decked out in full auntly regalia. The uncles, too, were also in full deployment; Tom, Spenser, Henry, George, and Willoughby.

The lump in my throat felt about the size of Buckingham Palace. Still, when the schoolmaster announced my name as the winner of the Scripture Knowledge prize I dutifully stood up. I saw Gussie Fink-Nottle glare at me out of the corner of my eye but shrugged it off.

The Headmaster handed me a book and a small certificate detailing the accomplishments of one Bertram Wilberforce Wooster.


	38. Uncle Henry

"Hello there, young Bertie."

"Hello, Uncle Henry." I said, a touch awkwardly.

"Come here for a moment." he said, motioning me over to his motorcar. I walked after him. I knew he was considered a bit of an odd bird by the Aunts, which actually served as a mark in his favor.

"Look at this." said Uncle Henry pointing into the backseat of his motorcar.

Three small baby bunnies were curled against one another, fast asleep.

"Would you like to take one home as a present for winning the Scripture Knowledge prize?"


	39. Herman

"Bertram!"

"Blast!"

"Bertie!" scolded my sister. "Such language!"

I stood up and tucked my arms behind my back, attempting to look as innocent as possible. Aunt Agatha loomed into the room.

"What is this?"

"It looks like a baby bunny rabbit, Aunt Agatha." I answered.

"I know what it is. What was it doing in the main hallway?" she fixed her steely eye on me, left over from the head of Medusa no doubt.

"I've no idea."

"Bertie-"

"No honestly, Aunt Agatha, I left him in his cage out in the stable. I don't know how he got insi---"

"To your room, immediately."

"Can I at least have Herman, or are you planning on sacrificing him to the greater good of aunts everywhere?" I said, a bit more boldly than usually.

I took advantage of the fact that she was momentarily frozen to grab Herman out of her hands and dashed down the hallway to my room.


	40. Useless Lump

"Bertie, you useless lump, would you do me a favor?" asked Aunt Dahlia at tea.

I eyed her warily. Favors for aunts were generally to be avoided.

"I need you to do a little job for me. We're going down to Agatha's tomorrow and I need you to get something out of a drawer for me."

"You mean steal something." I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Borrow without asking." Aunt Dahlia countered.

I fixed her with a steely eye. "Aunt Dahlia, Mother always told me Aunt Agatha sacrifices small children in the afternoons. As I have seen much evidence to support this claim I will not do it."

"You will do it, young Bertie, or I'll tell Angela you don't like her new nickname for her." Aunt Dahlia smiled in triumph.


	41. Her little sweetheart

"There's my little sweetheart!" cooed Angela, running over the lawn to my position near the creek bed.

I rolled my eyes heavenward but made sure Angela didn't see the gesture. "What ho, cousin Angela!" I greeted.

"What ho? Bertie, no one says 'what ho'." Angela giggled.

I sat up from my position in the grass and drew my chin up tall. "I do."

"Well, that doesn't matter anyhow. Mother says you're to come inside and get cleaned up for the trip to Aunt Agatha's.

I ran a cold eye over my diminutive cousin. She had the makings of an aunt if I didn't carefully guide her along the path to freedom.

"Walk with me a while, dear Angela. Aunt Agatha can wait."


	42. Master Wooster?

I tiptoed into Aunt Agatha's room while everyone else was gathered for tea. Aunt Dahlia had given me the excuse of needing to stretch my legs out on the grounds so I wouldn't be missed.

She was looking for a small brooch that Father had gifted my mother before they were married. It had belonged to Grandmother Wooster and Aunt Dahlia wanted it. She was certain the perpetrator, if perpetrator is the word I want, behind its being filched was Aunt Agatha.

The jewelry box was on her bedside table, about two meters from where I stood. Stirring up my courage I strode forth and laid one hand on the lid. Now or never, Wooster, I told myself.

In that instant the door opened. "Master Wooster?"

The maid. I bit my tongue to keep the vulgarity from my lips.


	43. Kati, Beautiful Kati

"What ho!" I exclaimed in a falsely cheerful tone and turned around. "Kati!"

The maid dipped her head. "Master Wooster."

"But what are you doing here, Kati?"

"Mrs. Gregson offered me a position as a lady's maid, sir."

I beamed. Kati had been an ally of sorts in the Wooster household. "Kati, I promise I'm doing this on orders. If you leave immediately and make for the kitchen you'll have an alibi."

Kati dipped her head. "Yes, sir." she turned to the door. "I would recommend smashing the window with that vase over there to make it look like a burglary." she said, turning back for a moment.

Kati knew her stuff, I could see that. I did as instructed and snuck out the door before anyone was the wiser.


	44. International Jewel Theives

"Spenser! Spenser!" came the agitated cry of Aunt Agatha. Uncle Spenser went running from the main hall where he had been attempting to interest me in joining him for some target practice.

I heard nothing more on the matter until supper that evening.

"Agatha's had some jewels stolen." Uncle Spenser announced to the table. I felt my cheeks grow red.

"That's horrible." Lamented Aunt Dahlia.

"Looks like international jewel thieves. They smashed the window and took off across the lawn." He continued. "I found muddy footprints on the edge of the garden path. Looks like there were two of them."

I raised my head slowly to look at Aunt Dahlia and shrugged.


	45. A replica

"What is the matter, Agatha?"

"That brooch you're wearing, Dahlia. I distinctly remember taking it for myself." I stood in the middle of the two aunts, head volleyball faster than a tennis ball. My body was tense, ready for a run.

"Nonsense." Aunt Dahlia lied smoothly. "I've had this one for years. I'd always admired Mother's and had a replica made."

"Hmm" came Aunt Agatha's response. I threw Aunt Dahlia a look.

"Bertie, you'd best go find Angela and Samantha. They're probably out on the flagstone."

I scooted off before the situation grew worse.


	46. Confused footsteps

"Bertie!" called Aunt Dahlia from the parlor. I stopped and poked my head in. I was supposed to be in bed by this time, but she didn't seem to be overly concerned on that count.

"Yes, Aunt Dahlia."

"I wanted to thank you for doing such a brilliant job with the brooch."

"Nonsense. All in a day's work, what?"

"It was a brilliant touch breaking the window." She complimented. I nodded in agreement.

"And the footsteps were a stroke of genius. I wouldn't have thought of that. Obviously those detective novels do you a bit of good."

"But, I thought YOU did the footsteps."

"Not I, young Bertie."


	47. Seppings

I snuck down the servants' corridor and into the kitchen. I didn't see Kati anywhere.

"May I help you, Master Bertie?"

"What? Oh, Seppings, yes. I was looking for Kati." Seppings raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

"I believe Kati is upstairs tending to the fireplaces. Is something wrong, Master Bertie?"

I waved my hands. "Oh, no, no, just wanted to ask her a question is all. Thanks awfully. Tootle pip."

I backed out of the kitchen and made my way upstairs. If Seppings ever questioned me again on it I'd simply claim I'd needed help on a memory of mother or father. Orphans always get off the hook when they mention their dead parents.


	48. Hidden Genius

"Kati!" I greeted, striding into one of the guest rooms. She was kneeling by the fireplace, busy with the task at hand.

She glanced up at me and but stayed focused.

"You are an absolute pal, Kati. Are you aware of that?" I said, throwing myself into a chair opposite her position. I saw a small grin grace her face.

"Where'd you think to get two different type of shoes? That was a stroke of genius, I must say."

Kati sat back on her heels. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Master Bertie. Though I did advise Mr. Seppings that the lawn has been a bit of a mess lately. I gave the same advice to Charlie, the stable boy."

She stood up, leaving behind a fire crackling merrily. "Good evening, Master Bertie."


	49. Madeline Basset

"Don't you just love flowers, Bertie?"

I don't think I rolled my eyes, but it was dashed difficult not to, given the circs. Madeline Basset was at Aunt Agatha's house for a visit as was I. I didn't see she couldn't be spending her time with Samantha. Girls always got along better with other girls.

"I think they're all the happy thoughts people had the previous year come back now to make us happy again. Don't you?" she dribbled on.

I will admit that I had not been following her soppiness with a close ear. So when she turned to me expectantly I did the only thing available for me to do.

"What? Oh, yes, rather."

Madeline smiled and tucked arm into mine.


	50. Debussy, a Stinker

Aunt Agatha forced me to play piano for her guests that evening. I played Debussy and Chopin, sticking with as many of the melancholy tunes as I could. Her expression when I finished could have soured a lemon.

I bowed politely as I stood from the bench and made my way to the door, it being now long after my normal bedtime. Aunt Agatha knew better than to scold me in front of all her friends. After all, I had played beautifully, apparently having inherited my father's musical aptitude.

Aunt Agatha, though never in the cheeriest of moods, had been a particular stinker as of late. I probably shouldn't have provoked her.


	51. Aunt Agatha's Secret

"What's wrong with Aunt Agatha?" I inquired of my sister. She was doing needlework, giving me another reason to be thankful I wasn't a girl. They had the most frightful ways of filling their time.

"What do you mean?" asked Samantha, looking up for a moment.

"I found her crying in the music room this morning when I went in to practice. And last night she didn't shout me out in front of company."

Samantha smiled, obviously very pleased with herself. "Well, Bertie, I have a secret to tell you. Aunt Agatha is going to have a baby."

I looked warily at her, wondering why on earth she apparently regarded this as good news.


	52. Always, Angela

Because of the change in Aunt Agatha's condition Samantha was relocated to Aunt Dahlia's for the time in between school terms. I was whole-heartedly behind this change and was most helpful in bringing her boxes and other things up to her room.

Angela didn't take to the change as happily as did I. I found her hiding under the bushes in the garden hugging her doll to her chest.

"Whatever is the matter, young Angela?" I asked her, crawling in next to her.

"Will you still be my friend, Bertie?" she asked quietly, keeping her eyes trained on her dolls dress. I responded by hugging her tight to me.

"Always, Angela. Always."


	53. Off Slopping

It was raining again. Eight days straight. Samantha had taken Angela off somewhere to instruct her in womanly things so I was left to myself. Aunt Dahlia had recently announced that she, akin to Aunt Agatha, was also preparing for the arrival of a babe.

The whole lot of them disgusted me. Too many women allowing themselves to become emotional and retreat into things marked solely for females of the species.

I sat in an open window just off the solarium where the rain didn't drip in. I desperately wanted to escape across the grounds and go slopping in the mud.


	54. Under the Duvet

I had decided to spend the day in bed. Aunt Dahlia could do it, so why couldn't I? It was one year ago that Mother had died. I didn't want any breakfast, not even tea. Instead I pulled the duvet up to my chin and pulled my knees to my chest.

"Bertie, you young blot, what are you still doing in bed?" came the barking voice of Aunt Dahlia.

I glared at her from my position on the bed but refused to vocally comment. I saw a cross look passed over her features. And then the most amazing thing happened.

Aunt Dahlia crawled right into bed with me. She pulled on the bell for Seppings to serve us in bed. And when Angela came looking for me, Aunt Dahlia pulled her in with us.


	55. Beautiful Girls and Sisters

"Bingo Little you give that back!" I shouted.

"But, Bertie, she's beautiful!" sighed Bingo.

I leapt on top of him and pinned him down. "You take that back, Bingo. You take that back this instance. She's a girl!"

The other boys in the room were lined up against the wall, none daring to interrupt; all their eyes were focused on the photograph held in Bingo's right hand.

"Of course she's a girl. The most beautiful girl in the world. Look at the way her dress is laid out about her on the grass. And the way the sun-" Bingo was cut off when I cuffed him soundly against the ear.

"Never talk about my sister again."


	56. Dangerous Business

"What's that, Gussie?"

"It's a newt." said the owner of said newt proudly.

I looked sideways at Bingo, all signs of the previous day's scuffle forgotten.

"What's it for?" asked Bingo.

"For? Why, to study and take care of, of course."

"Take care of that slimy thing?" Bingo asked incredulously.

"I stuck one of those down my sister's back once." I commented. "I wouldn't recommend it if there are aunts in the vicinity. Dangerous business, avoiding aunts."


	57. Loose Whiffle

"Bertie, rally round!" cried Bingo, entering the room surrounded by most of the boys from our form. "How much loose whiffle have you about your person?"

"Whiffle? Why?" I queried.

"Tuppy Glossop said he'll eat three full slices of steak and kidney pie if we can gather together two quid." Bingo said, rubbing his hands together in glee. "We're only a few pence short at the moment."

I crossed my arms "Tchah." I said.

"What did you say?" asked Bingo.

"I said tchah and I mean it. Three slices of steak and kidney pie, which for you or I would be an effort akin to Atlas holding up the sky, is to Tuppy Glossop but the work of a moment. I will not partake in the matter."

Bingo rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fink-Nottle, what do you have to offer?" I watched out of the corner of my eye as Gussie dropped four pence into Bingo's outstretched hand.


	58. Tuppy Victorious

"Bertie, I think I'm going to be sick." came Bingo's voice from the bed next to mine.

"What? Why?" I whispered back.

"You remember last week when Tuppy ate all that pie at dinner?" I nodded, then realized in the dark that didn't mean much in the dark.

"Indeed I do."

"Tuppy bet me I couldn't eat five helpings of bread pudding this evening." Bingo broke off to groan. "He was right. Ooh."


	59. Newt Fancying in the Family

"There's a letter for you, Bertie." Said Bingo, as he chucked it at my spot on my bed. I opened it eagerly as it was a rather uncommon occurrence.

It was a note from my Aunt Julia.  
"Bertram-  
I am writing to let you know your cousin Gussie will be starting at your school next term and I am expecting you to keep an eye on him and protect him from any harm. I hear reports of you from Agatha and Dahlia. I hope you are well.  
Love, Aunt Julia.

I eyed Gussie Fink-Nottle closely, hoping newt-fancying ran in the family and not in the first name. I don't think I had the wherewithal to protect and defend another newt-fancier, even if they were family.


End file.
